<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>hold me like you're supposed to, so tight i'd bruise you by imaginejolls</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23980867">hold me like you're supposed to, so tight i'd bruise you</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/imaginejolls/pseuds/imaginejolls'>imaginejolls</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Motherland: Fort Salem (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bonding, Cunnilingus, F/F, Face-Sitting, Friends to Lovers, Scylla is not in the picture, Vaginal Fingering, we're all gay here</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 19:27:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,277</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23980867</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/imaginejolls/pseuds/imaginejolls</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Raelle/Tally/Abigail + scars / bruises / marks</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Abigail Bellweather/Raelle Collar, Abigail Bellweather/Raelle Collar/Tally Craven, Abigail Bellweather/Tally Craven, Raelle Collar/Tally Craven</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>135</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>hold me like you're supposed to, so tight i'd bruise you</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>title taken from "Wild Blue Yonder" by The Amazing Devil, and tailored to fit the story</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Abigail doesn’t have any scars. She does, however, have bruises, and she wears them like badges of honour. Her bruises are displayed proudly, for they send a message; it says: I trained this hard and relentlessly, and this is my reward. Ever so proud of the reminders of the hard work she’s endured, Abigail shows off her bruises to anyone who wishes to see.</p><p>Tally watches Abigail, fresh out of the shower, the sunlight gentle on her brown skin. She looks at the deep mauves blooming on Abigail’s still-wet thighs and the brown bruising on her shins and forearms. Abigail catches her eye and smiles. She isn’t shy, or modest for that matter. Tally still remembers how quick Abigail was to show off her witch’s mark, vibrant and glittering in the light. Her eyes linger on where she knows it lays on Abigail’s body, now hidden by the towel.</p><p>“See something you like, private?” Abigail asks, all cockiness. </p><p>“You know I do,” Tally shoots back with a wink. </p><p>The silence stretches, filled with unexpected tension. They look at each other. Tally desperately wants to say something, but… she doesn’t find the words.</p><p>“Your turn in the shower, Craven, you stink.” And just like that the moment is broken. </p><p>Tally peels off layers of clothes and walks away. She feels Abigail’s heavy gaze on her back all the way to the door. </p><p> </p><p>Raelle bruises blue and green and yellow. She could make her bruises disappear if she wanted to, but it’s easier to let them fade out of existence, then be replaced with fresh ones. Rinse and repeat. Raelle endures them quietly, without boasting. She has a scar she never talks about and a witch’s mark no one’s ever seen. She’s not sure what the big deal with marks is.</p><p>Raelle reaches up for the top shelf in her closet and her t-shirt lifts just enough to uncover a green-yellow splotch across her hip. Tally resists the urge to reach out and touch it. </p><p>“It’s nothing,” Raelle says, having caught Tally looking.</p><p>Tally gives in to the urge. She brushes the tips of her fingers across the bruise, and Raelle winces slightly. “Maybe they’ll give you something for it in the infirmary?” she offers in a gentle tone. </p><p>Raelle shakes her head. “It’s fine. I’m fine.” </p><p>Tally pulls her hand away. “Okay.” </p><p> </p><p>Tally has a scar from the time she fell out of a tree when she was nine. It reminds her of childhood. The lightness she didn’t even realize she felt until it disappeared. She traces the scar with her fingers where it juts out on the inside of her knee whenever she’s missing home. </p><p>Tally’s bruises are muddy shades of purple and pink. She pokes at them with her fingers. They take a long time to heal and she’s constantly getting new ones. Tally feels like one big, walking bruise. </p><p>“Everything hurts,” she sighs and unbuttons her shirt. </p><p>Abigail offers a sympathetic squeeze of Tally’s hand. She wouldn’t admit to being sore as hell. Not out loud, anyway. Raelle puts a hand on Tally’s shoulder, probably to offer some words of consolation, but Tally recoils at the touch. Her shoulder is bruised badly, an angry shade of red. </p><p>“Shit, Tal, I’m sorry!” Raelle’s hand moves off and down Tally’s arm, fingers trailing the skin. She probably doesn’t even realize she’s doing it. “I can give you something for that. There’s an- I have- an old family recipe, a soothing salve. I’d just need to find the ingredients.” </p><p>Abigail smiles dangerously. “Well, you’re in luck. The base is basically one big garden. I’m sure we can find everything you need.” </p><p>“We?” Raelle’s question is punctuated with an uptick of her eyebrows. </p><p>Tally just about shakes in excitement. “Treasure hunt!” </p><p>“And we can just pick stuff as we please?” Raelle asks as she’s being pushed out the door by Tally. </p><p>“Well, technically.” Abigail pauses. “There aren’t any rules against it.”</p><p> </p><p>The dusk has settled over Fort Salem by the time they make it back to their room and Raelle sets out to work her magic. It is quiet. The chirping of birds outside is muted by the window, the light slowly fading. Tally sits beside Abigail on her bed. Their arms are a hair’s width apart, occasionally brushing against one another. Raelle is but an arm’s reach away.</p><p>There’s something about this moment that feels almost sacred. Tally catches herself holding her breath. She looks at her hands and finds them trembling so she tries to occupy herself with something, but there isn’t much to do when you’re just sitting there and- Abigail covers her knotted hands with her own. The corner of her mouth lifts up in a smile. Tally exhales, finally. </p><p>“Okay.” Raelle turns to face them, a small bowl of <i>stuff</i> in the palm of her hand. “Take off your shirt, Tally.” </p><p>“If that’s what your bedside manners look like, it’s no wonder you can’t find a girlfriend, Collar,” Abigail says. But she’s smiling into it, so they know she means no harm.</p><p>Tally doesn’t say anything. She works the buttons of her shirt undone, shrugs it off and leaves it hanging off the bed post. Raelle climbs onto Abigail’s bed which is definitely not wide enough for the three of them. Short shuffling ensues until everyone is seated comfortably. Raelle examines the bruise on Tally’s shoulder. She pulls the strap of Tally’s undershirt out of the way, leaving the shoulder entirely exposed. Tally feels unexpectedly… self-conscious. All the attention focused on her right now is making her feel shaky. </p><p>“This is probably going to be a little cold,” Raelle says then. </p><p>Tally makes a strangled “mhm!” sound and tries not to flinch when Raelle’s fingers spread the salve around the bruise. “Oh,” she says, “it tingles.” </p><p>Raelle flashes them a proud smile that reaches her eyes and, oh, they rarely get to see her like this. Tally wishes they got to see her like this more often. </p><p>“So it’s working,” Raelle says, clearly delighted but trying not to show it. </p><p>“Good job,” Abigail offers. Raelle looks at her like a startled cat, but the smirk that spreads on her lips says more than enough. </p><p>"My turn." Abigail shimmies out of her pants. </p><p>Tally turns away from the sight of her long, strong legs, as if she was still a school girl in the gym locker room. Raelle leans across Tally’s crossed legs. She’s really close now. Tally breathes in and her lungs are filled with a strange mix of laundry detergent and the forest. Doesn’t smell bad at all, actually. Raelle is smoothing the herbal paste over the bruises on Abigail’s thighs. If her hands linger a little longer than they are supposed to, none of them say anything. She looks up at Abigail with a sheepish smile. Abigail offers an open palm. </p><p>“Now I do you.” </p><p>The innuendo must have been deliberate, because Abigail grins at the sudden pop of colour in Raelle’s cheeks. Raelle lifts up her t-shirt to expose the almost faded bruise on her hip. Next to it is another bruise, fresh blue and painful-looking. Raelle hisses out an exhale when Abigail’s fingers first make contact with it.</p><p>“Sorry,” Abigail mumbles. She tries to be as gentle as she can. When she’s done, Raelle turns back around to face her, and for a moment it looks like they are going to kiss. Raelle’s mouth is open ever so slightly and Abigail’s eyes drop down to look at it. Tally holds her breath. The moment passes. Abigail bites her lip and looks away, surprised to find Tally watching her. Raelle clambers out of the bed. She clears her throat. </p><p>“Alright,” she says awkwardly. “Thanks. I’m- I’m gonna go. For a run.” </p><p>And just like that she’s gone. Tally doubts she’ll do any running at all. Walking around the base and panicking, that’s more likely. She briefly contemplates going after her, but decides against it. Space and all. Speaking of, Tally also gets out of Abigail’s bed, with a bit more grace than Raelle’s frantic escape.</p><p>“We should probably save this,” Abigail says, gesturing to the bowl that holds the remains of the salve. “For later.”</p><p>Tally nods. It feels a little strained. “Yeah.” </p><p> </p><p>They don’t talk about it. In fact, they’re very good at not talking about it. They act as if nothing has changed, and nothing has, mostly. The only exception is how every couple of days they sit down on Abigail’s bed in their underwear and massage the healing salve onto the cuts and bruises they’ve managed to accumulate. It’s become their ritual. Tally lights the candles, Raelle makes the paste and Abigail, already stripped down, readies the bed. Without fail, Tally gets sidetracked watching Abigail move. Abigail is so sure about everything. Her every move is big and steady, steeped in confidence. But Tally is observant. She sees the cracks in the facade that Abigail so meticulously puts up for the world. But now, in their small bubble? Abigail is free, if momentarily, and Tally sees how that reflects in the way Abigail moves through their shared space. </p><p>“Tally, you’re drooling,” Raelle says. She’s teasing, of course, and grins at Tally as she pointedly makes a show of taking off her clothes. Tally whoops and cheers in appropriate fashion.</p><p>She is the last to get on the bed, still settling into the nakedness of it. Sure, they undress around each other all the time, but there’s an emotional bareness in this little ritual of theirs that Tally has yet to get used to seeing from either Abigail or Raelle. It’s like a spell. No matter how much they disagree with each other daily, when it’s time to help each other heal, they’re… open and sincere. And yes, there’s the fun of it as well. </p><p>Raelle’s handles the salve carefully as she puts it on a nasty cut and the surrounding bruising on Tally’s forearm. Tally got it falling out of a tree once more, this time during Salva training. Before she fell, she felt lightness again. It was unlike the one she knew from her childhood. Less free and all encompassing, more like the lurch of a rollercoaster.</p><p>“Earth to Tally!” Raelle says and smears the paste across Tally’s cheek to further catch her attention. “Your turn.” </p><p>“Sorry,” Tally mumbles. She takes the small bowl from Raelle and examines the pale leg that Raelle sticks out at her. There’s a bruise at the back of her thigh. Tally covers it with a layer of the salve and trails her fingers down Raelle’s leg to look for other small wounds. She looks up to see Abigail watching her closely. Suddenly, Tally feels like prey when it spots the predator stalking it. </p><p>“Where’s your mark, Raelle?” Abigail asks. </p><p>Raelle narrows her eyes and tips her head to one side. “Maybe I’ll show you later,” is all she says. She grabs the bowl from Tally and sets it aside on the window sill. “Why don’t you tell us how you made yours glow?” </p><p>Abigail flashes them a smile and does. She was sixteen and snuck out of a function. The boy was charming, but clueless, and the whole thing was no grand affair; she returned unnoticed half an hour later. </p><p>“Sounds disappointing,” Raelle comments. </p><p>“Men usually are.” </p><p>Tally sits bewildered between the two of them. Her heart is beating frantically for no reason at all and she presses her fingers to her breast bone in attempt to quell it. </p><p>“You okay, Tally?” Abigail asks. She no longer resembles a predator; instead she looks at Tally with such gentlessness in her eyes that Tally almost cannot take. </p><p>Tally nods, then shakes her head. Something’s got to give. She looks hard at Abigail and hopes that somehow, the mess of feelings inside her chest will translate without her having to speak. It doesn’t. So instead she reaches out, anchors her hand at the back of Abigail’s neck and kisses her. </p><p>Tally’s breath is trembling when she leans back. Abigail is looking at her, lips open slightly, eyebrows scrunched in a question. At last, a smile takes over her mouth. Tally looks over at Raelle. She’s sitting no more than two feet away, face set in an unreadable way. Tally takes her hand. She squeezes. After a moment, Raelle squeezes back. </p><p>It’s exhilarating to watch Abigail and Raelle kiss. They all but throw themselves at each other, crashing somewhere in the middle, hard and heated. Raelle is panting. Her hand slides from the side of Abigail’s face to her neck and rests on her shoulder, nails digging into the skin. But when Raelle kisses Tally, she’s gentle. She cradles Tally’s face in both hands and kisses her like she’s found salvation and it’s been hidden in Tally’s mouth this whole time. When they pull apart, Tally laughs. She feels relieved. It’s like they’ve finally opened the window and allowed the room to breathe. </p><p>“So…” she starts. Raelle grins back at her. “Are we having sex?” </p><p>“I’m down,” Raelle says with a shrug of a shoulder.</p><p>“Definitely,” agrees Abigail. </p><p> </p><p>Turns out, fitting three people who are trying to have sex together on one small bad is more challenging than Tally anticipated. They end up on the floor instead. Raelle’s cheeks are red from laughter, Tally’s eyes bright. Abigail shakes her head at them. But she’s laughing anyway as she takes off her bra and panties. Tally’s breath catches in her throat. </p><p>“What?” Abigail asks them when they stare at her, equally astonished. </p><p>“Nothing,” Raelle mutters. Not one to be one-upped, she takes off her remaining clothes as well.</p><p>“You’re beautiful,” Tally says. </p><p>“I know.” Abigail is all grins and self-confidence.</p><p>“Thanks.” Raelle looks at the floor. “And you’re not naked enough.” </p><p>“Raelle! Those manners, you really need to work on them,” Abigail tuts. She leans over and kisses Raelle, and her hair falls down the side of her face to tickle Raelle’s cheek. </p><p>Raelle’s pale hands contrast with Abigail’s tan skin as they pass over the expanse of her back and settle in the dip of her waist. Tally watches her own hand as it moves up Abigail’s spine. She takes hold of a fistful of Abigail’s hair and guides her up and towards her own mouth. Abigail makes a pleased sound in the back of her throat. </p><p>They trade kisses back and forth, rolling around on the floor. It doesn’t matter that the floor is cold. What matters is that Tally’s skin buzzes wherever Abigail or Raelle has touched her, not unlike the herbal salve, but warm and <i>more</i>. The playfulness gradually dissipates. It gets replaced with growing tension that Tally feels rising in her chest. Their touches become desperate. Tally tears off from Raelle’s mouth to catch her breath, heat crawling up her thighs, and watches Abigail move her way up Raelle’s body until she’s kneeling astride Raelle’s face. Raelle’s eyes widen with realization. Her mouth drops open. It is an invitation. Abigail descends upon her face, and Tally can’t help but think that this is the most beautiful thing she’s even seen. Tally settles between Raelle’s thighs. There, hidden away in the very crease of the right leg, is her witch’s mark, glowing blue. Tally traces it with her finger. Above, she hears Raelle’s exhale hard in surprise. Tally lifts her eyes to the silhouette of Abigail’s back, dark against the window, and watches the tantalizing sway of her hips atop Raelle’s mouth. There are wet noises, but also Abigail’s sighs and they sound like Seeds, but different. Better. </p><p>Tally brushes her fingers through the short hair on top of Raelle’s mound. It’s a shade of light brown, much lighter than Tally’s own. Beneath it is the pink flesh of Raelle’s cunt. It looks tempting. Tally presses her fingers against the wet heat of her and smiles at the way Raelle’s abdominals contract. Abigail’s moans grow louder. Encouraged, Tally slides two of her fingers up and down Raelle’s slit, stopping briefly around the entrance, but then sticks to her clit. That seems to be appreciated.</p><p>Abigail comes quietly. She tenses and shudders on top of Raelle, then moves off of her face with less elegance than Tally is used to seeing from her. Her smile is sated as she slips her panties back on. Abigail sits down near her bed, leaning her back against it. Her eyes are intent on the ministrations of Tally’s hand between Raelle’s legs. It’s both disqueting and grounding to have Abigail watching. </p><p>If Raelle comes, she doesn’t show it. She draws her legs up, bent, and her eyebrows scrunch together, but her breathing is no louder than it has been and she gently nudges Tally’s hand away. Tally caresses her witch’s mark once more, leaving a wet trail in the wake of her fingers. Raelle offers her a soft smile. </p><p>“Told you I’d show it to you guys when we got to know each other better,” she says.</p><p>Tally snickers. Raelle picks up her discarded tanktop and puts it back on. Tally never got around to actually getting naked, she realizes. Abigail gestures at her. Tally shuffles to where Abigail is sitting and lets herself be pulled into sitting with her back pressed against Abigail’s bare chest. Abigail’s breath is warm on Tally’s neck. </p><p>“Will you let us make you feel good, Tally?” she asks into Tally’s shoulder. Raelle settles in front of them. </p><p>Tally nods solemnly. She would let them do anything at this point. </p><p>Raelle slides Tally’s panties down her legs and smooths her hands back up the inner side of them. She lingers around Tally’s scar, traces it with her finger. </p><p>“Easier times,” Tally says. </p><p>Raelle gives her a nod like she knows. But something tells Tally that her own scar doesn’t come from things being easier. </p><p>Abigail and Raelle work together. The paths of their hands intersect, their fingers work in tandem. Sometimes, Raelle leans over Tally’s shoulder to kiss Abigail, then kisses Tally’s shoulder, clavicle, breast… Abigail sticks to Tally’s neck. She sucks in a mark under Tally’s ear, opposite to her witch’s mark. Her fingers, down Tally’s body, are snug between Tally’s folds, and idle. It is Raelle who does the work. </p><p>Raelle’s hands are healer’s hands. They are soft, but direct; they soothe and examine. Her fingers are nimble and probing, buried deep inside Tally’s cunt. It’s overwhelming.</p><p>Tally feels the tightness rise through her body. It begins where Raelle’s fingers press upwards inside of her, makes Tally’s stomach tense, her breathing shallow. Abigail mutters soft encouragements next to her ear. Tally comes with a strangled cry. The pressure dissipates and is replaced with warmth rolling through her limbs. Her mark burns for a second. With an exhale, Tally comes down and crumbles in Abigail’s arms. Raelle drops a kiss to the top of Tally’s spine. She hugs her from behind.</p><p> </p><p>Sleeping alone in her own bed afterwards is odd. Tally’s brain is stuck on a loop, and sleep eludes her for hours. When they wake up in the morning, it is with fresh bruises and marks in places that have nothing to do with training. But the air between them is clear. Tally can’t stop smiling.</p><p>They spare knowing glances at each other across the mess hall, the training mat, the hallways. Insufferable, really. Abigail wears her hickeys proudly and winks at anyone who stares too long. Raelle doesn’t talk back at any of their superiors. And Tally, she feels light. It’s different from the lightness of childhood, but still good. She feels encouraged: together, they can do this.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>finally! i fucking did it. largely un-beta'd, all mistakes are my own. by the way, what's the shipname for these three? i'm tentatively using "raellygail" but i'm unsure about it.</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>